Let It Snow
by RaeynnBeau
Summary: Pitch teams up with a new ally who has an idea on how to fix the problem of the fifth guardian...And get him the cold that goes along with his darkness. Meanwhile, Jack Frost has gotten believers in one small area, and he goes to investigate the source, and finds out can all be attributed to one person. But what is Pitch Black planning, and what does it have to do with this town?
1. I'd Hate Going Out in the Storm

A/N: So, just saw Rise of the Guardians, and this popped into my head … I know I have like, 5 other fanfics started, but what can I say – the idea struck me and now it won't vacate the premises. Plot bunnies really need to stop burrowing into my ears …

**Chapter 1: I'd Hate Going out in the Storm**

The dark was the only place he was comfortable anymore; the only place he felt safe. How had he been reduced to this …? Well, that was an easy answer – he had planned for centuries; and for all of his planning, all the time he spent figuring out how to undo every single one of the guardians … He had of course never expected the fifth, and of all those that could have been chosen, he would have never expected _him_ ... And that had been his undoing. If not for that _damnable_ Jack Frost … If only he could have swayed that impulsive, irresponsible, selfish _idiot_ – he hadn't been lying when he made his proposition; there was a truth that rang clearly in his words. _Nothing goes better with dark than cold…_

"Except perhaps a sprinkling of chaos …" at the sudden voice cutting through his accustomed silence, Pitch Black stood quickly, looking around. But, in the thick darkness that coated this place, he could see nothing; he had no idea who had spoken … Though whoever had didn't need to know that.

"I'm sorry; this is a private affair, and I don't believe you've received an invitation," he said with no particular concern in his voice. However, he realized after a moment that he could feel a presence – almost gnawing at the back of his mind … It was strange; almost like an itch, though unfortunately, he didn't have time to scratch it.

"Oh Pitch," a voice nearly crooned; it seemed to be coming from several places at once – and this fact was vaguely concerning. Only vaguely though. "What's happened to you …? Hiding out in a tiny, dank little cave like some sort of rodent … You're even afraid of the light that would make your shadow – worse off than that silly little groundhog. Skittering around in the shadows where no one can find you …"

"Then how, pray tell, did _you_ manage the feat …?" he snapped in retort, "and who, for that matter, are you?" There was a long pause – so long that Pitch Black wasn't sure whoever it was in fact was still in his presence … He stood tense, waiting for some sort of sign that he wasn't alone … And then, a chuckle, almost a _giggle_, bubbled up from the darkness, and there was suddenly a tiny patch of illumination in this little haven he'd carved out for himself.

"Well, I didn't do it alone … I had a little, hmmm, shall we call it help?" His eyes narrowed, unused to the light no matter how miniscule that invaded an admittedly small area. At first, he had a hard time making out what was emitting the light, but after a few moments, he heard a familiar sound that clued him in. It was the whinny of a rather unnatural horse …

"From this lovely creature. I know it's rude of me not to introduce you, but I assume you've met …?" she continued as if he'd asked again. But he wasn't paying attention to the voice anymore. All he could think was that he had outrun the horses; it had taken a long time, but he'd lost them. Gone somewhere they didn't follow him – had stamped down whatever supposed fear he might or might not have felt … So, then how …? If this disembodied figure was telling the truth, how did it –

"Oh relax," the tone turned bored quickly, snapping Pitch out of his thoughts to face the Nightmare … And finally, he was able to pin down the source; it was coming from somewhere next to the devilish horse. "I've got this little beauty under control – he's not going to _hurt_ you … I just needed him to help me find you …" He wasn't sure he believed what she was saying; even he didn't control them – not really. They were drawn to fear of any kind, and preyed on it. _Fed_ it. They really were wild animals, in every sense of the word … So how was she, if it was actually a she, keeping it at bay…?

"What happened to the big, powerful, terrible Pitch Black …?" The voice startled him from his reverie again … There was mock pity in it now; but he couldn't tell if it was laughing at him or it was oddly … teasing him. "The one that could just wave a hand and 'poof' – children would scream, and cry to their parents … Parents would scream and cry to themselves, because they had to be strong for their children, but really they were just as terrified …"

"I believe you're thinking of the Dark Ages," Pitch responded tersely, "and I suggest you check a calendar, because they've been over for a while." So far this presence didn't seem … _Threatening_, exactly. Just very, _very_ annoying. And his patience was running quite thin.

"Ick, yes … Warmth, fire, _light_ … Makes it so people feel safe and happy – makes things too … Visible. Destroys nearly all prospects for panic. And all of that _delicious_ uncertainty …" the emotion that rolled through the sentence like a languid tide shifted from disgust to something akin to dismissive … Before moving into almost wistful as it cut through what was no longer a rather satisfying silence.

"Well, the Man in the Moon took care of _that_ when he created the Guardians. And I can't be bothered to explain –." But the voice, which seemed to be a 'she' the more he heard it and thought about it, cut him off again. And that habit was getting to be rather old rather quickly.

"Not exactly fair odds – the whole five against one thing, I mean." The Nightmare stamped it's hoof and whinnied again, which made Pitch jump, though he didn't back up … Because after the initial startle, he realized that it wasn't an aggressive sound … It was almost as if the thing was in pain. "Clearly, if that Twit in the Moon thinks he needs that many protectors to defend against _one_ itsy bitsy ickle Bogey Man … Then _he's_ the one that's afraid." What did she do to the nightmare … Who even _was _this …? Before he could make any demands of the informative nature, he received confirmation of the voice's gender as it continued.

"It seems to me that you need a … woman's touch," it purred to him, and near the end of the sentence he felt something push up against his arm – something like a hand, but different. Immediately he pulled away from it and responded with a sharp tongue.

"Well, no one asked for any of your input, so -"

"Oh Pitch … You spent so much time learning to turn sweet dreams in to sweet _terror_ … Tell me you can still do it …? If you can … I may just have an idea on how to get rid of your little fifth guardian problem." She'd interrupted again, but … What she said for the first time had not served to annoy the Bogey Man. In fact it had managed to capture his attention, if only for a moment.

"Who are you …?" it was obvious he was suspicious … But no longer entirely intent on her departure. And then, for the first time, after staring at the only light source available, he realized – the Nightmare that she had somehow followed to him … It wasn't restrained – but at the same time, it wasn't moving either. And, when he watched it for long enough, he realized that there was some sort of strange visual distortion. Almost as if the dark sand it was made of stretched suddenly before re-solidifying into it's normal shape. Sort of like an extreme white noise filter that appeared at random.

"You've never met me before, but consider me a … Long standing fan of yours," she said, and for the first time, he made out the shape of a person moving towards him through the darkness. In the faint glow from the Nightmare, he could only make out a silhouette; wild, curled hair that didn't seem to hold still, or move, really … Suddenly she was in front of him, barely a breath away – and all he could see were eyes. Gold, like amber, but almost as if they were _alive_; as if there was something dark writhing within and distorting the irises. There was no pattern; just sudden bursts of darkness, twisting black and brown vines … He almost didn't hear what she said to him after a notable pause.

"You many call me, Entrophine."


	2. The Fire is So Delightful

**A/N****:** Sorry this update took so long – not that, you know, this isn't par for the course … My other fanfics have been waiting longer, to be fair. xD But since I already had 3/4 of this chapter written, I decided to just sit down and finish it.

**Chapter 2: The Fire is So Delightful**

It was winter, and snow was falling like an avalanche at the North Pole; however, the blue eyes watching it had nothing to do with it, for once. Jack was sitting indoors, a spectator at the moment, though that didn't mean that he couldn't appreciate the cold white flakes that were raining from the sky. Seriously – winter?

Best.

Season.

_Ever_.

"Jack!" a sudden voice snapped him out of his staring, and he turned to see North walking through the threshold and into the small workshop he normally occupied with his ice carvings and toys. The pale Guardian hopped off of the windowsill he was sitting on, staff swinging from the crook of his arm to his fingers automatically.

"Sorry to keep you waiting; there was situation with some of the elves … …" a slightly pained look crossed North's face when he said this, and Jack could only imagine what that meant … But he recovered a moment later with a smile. "Anyway – what was it that you wanted? I don't see you here very often; must be pretty important …" Jack reached up to touch the back of his neck, scratching for a moment almost awkwardly with a small smile of his own.

"Well, I mean – it's probably nothing … It's just been, y'know, bugging me lately, so I figured I'd ask about it …" North was already sitting down at his workbench, putting a cookie in his mouth and watching Jack, who was now leaning on his staff as he spoke.

"Well?" North said as he swallowed when Jack didn't continue. Truthfully, the newest guardian was at a loss for words, and having a hard time over coming it, which became apparent pretty quickly. So, leaning forward conspiratorially, North said, "you know, no matter how much children believe I can read minds, that does not make it true …"

"Yeah, I know," Jack said, rolling his eyes and sighing as he turned to look back out the window. "It's just … hard to explain."

"Well, try," North urged as he started working on a carving from what appeared to be an ice cube it was so small. _Easier said than done_, Jack thought glumly as he sat down and closed his eyes. If you'd told him a century, or even a decade ago, that he would be sitting in the North Pole asking Santa Claus himself to help him figure out something, _anything_ really, he would have … Well, he would have been in shock that someone was talking to him, presuming that you are not some sort of mythical icon, but after that he would think you were crazy. Which he might have thought was the reason you could see him in the first place, but … I digress.

"It's just … This feeling, I've been getting," Jack started after he'd somewhat collected his thoughts; North just nodded with an encouraging, 'mmhmm?'. With a sigh the fifth guardian glanced up at the things hanging from the ceiling while he continued. "It's sort of … … Well, I can only really call it warm … But it's not really warm – I can't actually, y'know, _feel_ warmth, not that that's a shocker or anything, but … It's like what … It's like what a light bulb should probably feel like? I guess …?"

Jack cut himself off with a sigh, frustrated – this wasn't making any sense; not even to him. How could he expect North to know what he was talking about? Glancing over at the large man, he realized that North was no longer fiddling with the tiny ice block; he was watching Jack carefully, with what could really only be described as a knowing grin on his rosy face. "I don't know how to describe it really just … At first, it was only every once in a while … But now, it's almost like it's gnawing at me constantly – but not … Not in a bad way," he hadn't realized his eyes had closed thoughtfully as he spoke, or that his free hand had come up and curled against his chest, as he continued, "at least, I don't think it's bad …? I don't know how to describe it – it's just," Jack's blue eyes will open and he'll pull his hand away from his sweatshirt, uncurling his fingers and looking at his palm. A moment later and he was sighing and collapsing fluidly into a sitting position on the sill with his head in his hand, staff still in the other. "Really confusing."

"Ah-ha! I knew this would happen eventually!" North said with a sudden laugh, which made Jack jump and face him. He would have been concerned that what North was implying was a bad thing except the larger guardian just seemed so … Pleased. "Come – I will explain what feeling is!" And with that, he grabbed Jack and they were nearly sprinting through the halls. Jack couldn't do anything but trip over his own feet for a few steps with a bit of a yelp, and then follow, nearly dropping his staff in the rush.

"Can't – hey! – Can't you just _tell _me what it is!?" he called out, trying to keep up with North's … … oddly excited footsteps. He didn't get any sort of response, not that he really expected one, as he was pulled through the hall and down the stairs and around a corner to an actually very familiar spot. He couldn't help raising an eyebrow.

"The globe?" he asked, looking up at the giant metal sphere that slowly rotated in the middle of the room, a million tiny lights twinkling from it. He pushed a few strands of white hair out of his pale face and looked at North skeptically; he suspected the man had had one too many cookies. Or maybe his eyes had finally gotten too big for his brain.

"_This_ is what feeling is, Jack." North gestured to the lights on the globe … And it quickly became evident that Jack had no idea what he was getting at. So, he explained in a little more detail. "It is feeling of children believing in you, Jack. Is _their _light that you feel. You felt little bit when Jamie and his friends believed in you, no? Well, the more children believe in you, the more you will feel it!" He laughed and clapped a hand on the icy guardian's shoulder, which almost knocked Jack over, but otherwise he didn't really get a response. Mostly because Jack was staring at the little lights – almost as if he'd been sucker punched in the gut, and this was the moment before he fell to his knees and gasped for air.

"It's … It's like …" he was still at a loss for words, perhaps now even more so, now that he knew what the feeling that had been welling up inside of him recently. Honestly Jack wasn't sure how to describe it; warm was the only word he could really come up with, but since he hadn't felt warmth since he was alive, he felt like he didn't really have the authority to say it …

"It is like constant glow right here," North said with his characteristic smile, reaching out and lightly tapping the center of Jack's chest, " no?"

"Y … Yeah … Kind of …" at the slightly unexpected gesture, the guardian looked down where North had tapped him before he brought a hand up to rub at the spot a little. Leaving his hand where it was, Jack looked up at that globe that was still slowly rotating, as always. Children were believing … In _him_? He didn't know … That it felt like this – being believed in …

"… … … You are want to know where they are believing in you, Jack?" Blue eyes turned back to the larger man dressed in red, confused.

"What … What do you mean? How?" he asked immediately; there wasn't a way to pinpoint which children believed in who … At least, not so far as the fifth guardian knew ...

"Well … " North sort of looked away, reaching up to put a hand on the back of his neck. "There is way to show which children believe in which guardian … … But we did not show you Jack, because, well, until now …" He trailed off, but his meaning was clear; _Until now, you didn't have any believers_. He didn't hold it against anyone – not really. It's not like there would have been any point in telling him until now. Though he was starting to get sick of all the 'oh, by the way, we didn't tell you this' things he kept learning about …

"But, you want to see now, yes?" the excitement was back in North's voice a moment later, and Jack couldn't help a small smile because of it as he nodded hesitantly. He wasn't sure he wanted to know, honestly - there were bound to only be a couple, if that, besides the kids that had seen him when they had defeated Pitch … He was assuming he just hadn't really noticed this feeling before, because he had been trying not to die at the time and everything.

Jack was distracted from his thoughts though when North reached forward to a row of buttons on the control panel that he hadn't noticed before; they were all squares, and each one had a different picture on it. A tooth, a thought bubble, a decorated egg, a Christmas Tree … And a snowflake. Which was the one that North pressed. Looking up at the globe, Jack watched as a blue wave moved, starting from the south pole, all the way up the globe and ended at the north pole, and as it passed over the continents, the hundreds of little lights went out … Frowning, at first it looked as if there were no lights left at all, but as the globe kept turning, he saw a small cluster of three or four – that, he recognized, was around where Jamie lived. Another smile crossed his face at the memories of those kids – but he was distracted again a moment later as the globe continued turning, and there was a tight cluster of three or four times as many lights. Jack felt his blue eyes widen – there had to be … at least a dozen there, maybe even a few more than that.

And for someone who was used to having absolutely zero believers, that seemed like a million.

"What? Wait … Why—I don't … I don't understand," was all he managed to get out as he stumbled over his words. Why were there so many in one small place …? Why were there any at all?

"I don't know, Jack," was the only response he received as he watched the lights disappear around the corner because of the slow spinning of the globe. "I told you, I am not mind-reader." Jack barely heard him as he stared at the globe, waiting for the lights to come back around, and his eyes trained on them immediately when they did.

Suddenly, Jack turned sharply, and was running off. "Thanks North!" he called over his shoulder as he dashed up the stairs and towards a window.

"Wait – Jack! Where are you going?" North called after him, following a few steps. The inquiry made Jack pause on the window sill, as he'd already gotten the window open, and the wind and snow was blowing inside of the workshop, which was bound to piss Phil off – and any other Yeti that saw. But he stopped long enough to answer before jumping out the window, which slammed shut behind him.

"I don't need to be a mind-reader if I can go there and ask myself!"

oOoOoOoOo

"I still don't understand what any of this has to do with Jack, or any of the Guardians," the Bogey Man drawled, annoyance frosting his tone. His response was a laugh, which only added to his frustration.

"Patience, Pitch," Entrophine murmured, clearly distracted with watching what was going on in the town. "You waited hundreds of years to strike at the guardians, and it hasn't been a decade since then. You can wait a bit longer, can't you?"

One thing was certain; he was becoming very sick of being told what to do. He wasn't used to working with a 'partner', and what information she did divulge wasn't particularly useful. In fact most of the time it was enigmatic at best. They were in a town in the middle of nowhere, stuck in the mountains and respectfully secluded … The kind of place you came to vacation if you liked the environment, but if you weren't one for picturesque charm, which Pitch Black was not, it got old fast.

"Ah – see!?" a sudden delighted near-screech snapped Pitch's attention away from his thoughts, if only because he was so surprised. He realized she was pointing, index finger extended with a long pointed black nail at an upwards slant, and as he followed the line her gaze was taking … It would be a lie to say that he wasn't surprised to see Jack Frost landing on a rooftop not too far away from where they stood in the shadow of an alley way …

oOoOoOoOo

A cold, northerly wind carried Jack towards his destination, and he landed on the roof of a house when it dropped him off. His toes curled a little as he walked across the weathervane he'd stopped on and crouched at the end of one of the spokes, looking down into the street. The little town looked like how you'd expect a post card or Christmas card to look – snow on the ground, people walking around, brick buildings lining the main street … The only things that took away from the classic feel of the place were the modern cars in place of the horse and buggy stereotype. But otherwise, it was surprisingly picturesque. He liked it.

_Now … To find someone I can talk to … _he thought to himself, looking around. There was a lot of hustle and bustle going on – he wasn't going to find what he was looking for wandering the streets in the middle of the day. Jumping off of the roof and sliding across an adjacent gutter with his hands shoved in the pocket of his hoodie, staff in the crook of his arm, he watched the town below carefully before something caught his attention. It was the sound of a bell ringing – a school bell, to be exact.

Jack smiled when he heard the children pouring out into the snow, and couldn't help a laugh out of a sort of kinship with them as the wind picked him up and brought him towards where several of them immediately started playing in the snow. And, Jack would have immediately joined in if he hadn't noticed something… strange. Or at least, he was ready to call it strange a number of the children walked very neatly out of the school building and got into a bus that, instead of being painted the normal yellow, it was a stark white with blue detailing. And across the side was printed "G o G" in the same blue paint. Also strange was the fact that that was the only bus Jack saw – the rest of the children didn't seem to care or notice though as the vehicle filled up. Curious, he skated across the breeze again, landing on top of the bus with a light thud and creating a small patch of ice when he touched the metal. So far, none of the children playing outside seemed to notice him at all, so there wasn't any reason he couldn't do as he pleased – as he usually did.

The bus he rode on top of drove up the road, but not too far – a few twists and turns, and Jack saw where it was headed; a particularly large brick building that was perched not exactly on a hill, but on an elevated plot of land. _Interesting _… he thought to himself as he rolled to the side and off of the bus … …

And into a snow bank.

… … Suddenly he was glad that it seemed like most of these children couldn't see him anyway.

After he dug himself out of the snow, which was unfortunately a respectable amount of time later, he brushed the stray flakes from his bangs, picked up his staff, and glanced around to see if anyone had noticed, even though he was already certain he knew the answer to that. Then again … This was a large amassment of children, and somewhere in this town was a handful that believed in him, so …

Maybe he should be a little more careful. Not that he normally went around falling into snow banks or anything, mind you – that had been a fluke … Brushing himself off, he absently let his staff swing at his side as he walked towards the building, ignoring the children that were pouring off of the bus in a relatively orderly fashion. He was more interested to figure out what this establishment was … And he had his answer when he approached the front doors, and there was a plaque that was half buried in snow. It read:

_St. Mary's Home_

_Donated to less fortunate children in 1829_

_Renovated by the state in 1990 and re-titled Garden of Guardians [1]_

Jack's eyes narrowed in confusion – that was an interesting name for this place. _What does it mean less fortunate though …?_ he absently thought as he glanced around – they certainly _seemed_ less fortunate than others as they marched in a pretty orderly fashion from the bus into the building; I mean, what kids _wanted_ to march like soldiers? He wanted to see if any of them could see him, but … large crowds of people, especially if only some if any of them could see him, were something he thought he should probably avoid. So, he jumped and was taken up by the wind again, carried to the roof to watch. There were a few adults just watching the bus unload, which was probably why the children were so well-behaved … He wasn't going to get a single one by themselves this way.

His bare feet didn't feel the rough grit of the shingles as he stepped lightly to the other edge of the roof, looking now at the back of the building … Which was actually a very pretty view. There were mountains, and pine trees – all covered with a pretty thick dusting of snow. Leaning over the side of the roof, so that he was practically upside-down, he saw that the whole back of the building was covered in windows. Looking in the rooms, he realized that most of them looked like bedrooms that had a few beds, dressers, and one desk in each. Actually, they were all very similar rooms, and it looked like more than one person inhabited each one. In fact, a few of them had two or three people in them when he looked – but they didn't seem to notice him.

Wafting back and forth across the building on a lazy breeze, he fell like snow as he looked in each window, trying to find someone who was alone and might see him. But, even if they had, he realized as he gently pushed on the when he went past panes that all of the windows were either locked, bolted, or stuck in some way, because they wouldn't budge. And, just as the guardian was getting discouraged, he noticed one window on the bottom floor that looked like it was cracked open. Rushing forward with a sudden burst of speed, he came to a stop outside of it, toes curling against the small ledge as he perched on it. He looked inside, and it was dark – at first he didn't think there was anyone there.

Sticking his head in, Jack jumped slightly when he heard a noise – a noise that he realized was a cough a moment later. Blinking, he looked around and eventually saw that the bottom bunk bed in the room had an occupant; a little girl. She was probably somewhere around ten years old, and it looked like she was sleeping – and from the sound of the cough, she was sick. He was about to duck back out of the window, and close it, because a draft can't be good for someone who's sick, especially in the middle of winter. But a small, raspy voice stopped him.

"Who are you?" Jack paused on the sill, turning back to look into the room thinking that someone had come in and he hadn't noticed. But the door remained closed, and he when he turned to look at the bed, he realized the little girl was still laying in the same position she had been – just, now her eyes were open.

"You can see me …?" he asked hesitantly, not sure if he wanted to be disappointed when she didn't answer him. For a few moments, she didn't say anything, and he was about to sigh and berate himself for getting his hopes up, but then …

"… … Uh-huh …?" she seemed … confused that he was asking that question. Which, he supposed was a fair response, since if he could see something as tangible as a person without trouble, he would probably assume everyone else could see it as well. Pivoting on the sill where he was still crouched, he sat down on the edge of it, feet hanging inside the window, staff resting on the floor and against his shoulder.

"Well … Don't tell anyone, but …" he grinned a little bit as he paused for a few before he finished his sentence. "… I'm Jack Frost." Her brown eyes widened, and she tried to sit up a little better.

"R-Really? You're Jack Frost?!" she seemed to at least recognize the name, and know at least some of the implications, which was encouraging. Jack nodded, unable to help the grin that spread across his face. Just to prove it, he held out a hand and blew a stream of air that crystallized when it left his lips, and solidified into a little ice cloud … Which it then began snowing from.

"Wow! You really are Jack Frost! I'm Anicia but everyone calls me Annie," she said, excitement creeping into her words like frost on a window pane. The girl sat up more, but this caused her to start coughing again, and it didn't stop for a quite a few seconds. She reached for a glass of water on the table next to her bed, which had long since warmed, if it started off with any ice at all. Going over to the table, he reached out for the glass, lightly tapping the side of it, which created a thin sheen of ice – enough to chill the liquid. She smiled, though it was a little forced, and took a drink of the now cool water, thanking him.

"You're welcome … And yup; I really am Jack Frost," he said as she put the glass back and laid down again. "… But – hey; listen … You found out about me recently, right? … Who told you about me?"

"Huh? Oh Suzy told me the story about how you bring all the snow in the winter," she said with a smile, clearly very excited about the season she was referring to. "I really like snow … But I'm sick; I can't go outside …" Jack smiled at her sadly; that was probably why her window was open, because he was sure no adult would have left it that way.

"Suzy? Who's she?" he asked, changing the subject so that she wouldn't be sad.

"Well … Her name is Susan, but she tells us we can call her Suzy. Is it true that you bring all of the snow? Everywhere?" he was surprised at her earnestness … Her eyes sort of reminded him of now North looked at, well, just about everything … And he wasn't used to being on the receiving end of that gaze …

"Frost, actually – but yeah," Jack answered with a slightly awkward laugh, "I guess I do." She didn't need to say the 'wow' she was thinking – it was written all over her face. He didn't think it was particularly cool … All he did was freeze stuff … I mean, winter is awesome and snowball fights and forts and snowmen and … She was embarrassing him, he realized, because she thought so highly of him. That was new for the fifth guardian ... His attention was thankfully captured by the sounds of laughter and shouting outside – it sounded like someone had started a snowball fight. Unfortunately, this little girl's attention was also gotten, and she looked sadly at her window. She couldn't even see out of it from the bed she was confined to. But, even from just the small amount of excitement from him talking to her, Jack could tell she was tired.

"I'm sure you'll get better soon so you can play with your friends …" he said with a smile as he gently pulled the edges of her blanket up under her chin, careful not to touch her to make her cold. Standing up straight, he picked up his staff and glanced at the open glass that was letting the frigid winter air into the room. "In the meantime though, you should probably keep your window closed …"

She nodded and yawned out, "g'bye … Jack ..." before closing her eyes and curling up under the blankets. He smiled a little as he slipped out of the window, pulling it shut behind him and murmuring,

"Bye, Annie." He couldn't help smiling as he looked out over the back yard; it was still light out, though the sun was setting, as it tended to do early in the winter, and several of what were probably the children from earlier were playing in the yard. However, just as he went to join in, the sound of someone yelling stopped him mid-jump.

"Hi Suzy!" Mention of that name made him put the brakes on, and fast. _Susan; that's the name of that person Cynthia was talking about_… Jack thought as he turned and adjusted his grip on the staff. It sounded like it had come from the front of the house, so suddenly he sped into motion, up and over the house to the other side of the roof once more, sitting on the edge and looking down.

"Did you come to play in the snow!?" one of the smaller children was running over to someone getting out of an old, beat up looking yellow punch-bug with an armload of bags and things stacked so high that Jack couldn't see her face. He could however see the blue tasseled hat that was on top of her head; or at least, he could see the tassel bouncing back and forth as she walked.

"Not right now sweety – I have to get these inside," he heard an out of breath voice answer … And it wasn't like he could resist a perfect set up like this, whether she was the one making children believe in him or not … A snowball appeared in his hand suddenly, and he blew on it, the devilish glint in his eye that he always got before he started trouble. Tossing the sphere lightly in his hand and re-catching it, he jumped off of the roof, took aim in mid air …

And didn't expect anyone to get between him and the person carrying that armload toward the building.

Instead of hitting her, he instead hit a boy that he hadn't noticed had wandered over – he had probably intended to help carry whatever she had, since he was a slightly older child, but all thoughts of assistance were gone as he bent down and scooped up a handful of snow … And that was when all hell broke loose.

There were probably ten or so kids in the front yard, and it didn't take long for a fight to break out – there had been one in the back as well, but they had been younger children and had probably had supervisors. These were for the most part older, and so they were more active – ran around more, made faster and more accurate shots … The only problem with this unfortunately was in the chaos … Jack didn't end up being the one that took out his initial target. It was an excellent shot though – almost as if going in slow motion, a snowball about the size of a large softball flew straight through the crowd of people and hit her square in the back of her head, just about where her coat ended, which meant that a good portion of the snow would inevitably get inside her jacket. This caused her to pitch forward, drop most of the things she was holding, do a full somersault across them, and land flat on her back in a pretty big heap of snow.

"Who. Threw. That." It wasn't a question, so much as a rather irritated demand that came from somewhere inside the hole her body had made in the snow drift, which she had yet to climb out of. Everyone stopped and looked around, but no one said anything – no one wanted to own up to the snowball. The little girl that had first run up to Susan joined in on the action when she realized it was what everyone else was doing, and her gaze happened to stop on Jack. Jokingly, he shrugged his shoulders and said,

"Hey – don't look at me; someone beat me to it." And oddly enough … He had the sudden impression that she'd heard him when her mouth opened with that characteristic 'oooooo you're baaadd' look that small children tended to get. Before they tattled on you. Jack's eyes widened, and he raised his hands up to wave them and tell her not to say anything, but he needn't have worried, because a moment later, several snowballs hit several people square in the face, and a voice from the snow bank yelled,

"Well, if you're not going to own up to it, _everyone's_ gonna get it!" For one of the very few times, the fifth guardian didn't understand when another snow fight broke out. A snowball whizzed past him and pegged Susan in the side of the face, and all she did was shriek, laugh, and return fire with not so great aim. And he hadn't hit her with any snow. But then again, in his experience adults were strange and unpredictable, so he supposed this fit in with that pattern …

Throughout most of the fight, besides dodging snowballs and knocking them back with fervor – he had no idea how much time had passed by the time someone came out and called that they needed to come in or they would catch their deaths, but he did notice that the sun was almost down, and it had been earlier in the afternoon when he'd first gotten to the town and school had let out …

Several of the smaller children complained that they wanted to play out in the snow more, though the older ones seemed more resigned to listen to direction and started standing and brushing the snow off of themselves. Susan got up from where she'd landed in the snow and helped some of the younger kids brush themselves off as they continued to protest.

"She's right, you know," Jack heard her say to try and placate them, "it's getting pretty chilly, and you're so full of snow, we might mistake you for a snowman and accidentally leave you out here." However, it seemed like that was definitely the wrong thing to say, because they decided then that they wanted to build snowmen instead of going inside. Realizing her mistake, she waved her hands in front of herself and said,

"Ah – no; I mean we have to go inside so … …" Susan paused moment, a thought occurring to her. "Hey! I have an idea – c'mon; help me carry this inside and I'll show you. It'll be really fun; I promise." Jack moved out of the way, rather than being walked through, and watched as a few of the kids picked up the odds and ends of what she'd dropped before heading inside.

Now, logic dictated that Jack should leave at this point; he knew what was going on, had even _talked_ to one of the children that apparently now believed in him, but … … He wanted to know why. Why now? And why was this girl, Susan, telling people about him? Did she believe? Probably not honestly, but he just … Didn't understand. It probably didn't help that he was so excited that he had believers that he didn't really want to do much of anything but hang around until he got to talk to more of them … And confusion was as good a reason as any to stick around … …

oOoOoOoOo

"Yes, he's here – that's all well and good, but I still don't see what that—" Pitch started to bitch again, tone growing more and more irritably as he said each word, but suddenly there was a finger against his mouth that silenced him for a moment, and he had a mind to bite it.

"Shhhh; patience," she hissed over her shoulder. They were behind some trees, watching Jack Frost flit around the house like some sort of snow fairy, and they had been here for a while. The sun set earlier in the winter than in the summer, so saying that it was nearly dark now didn't mean much, but it had been daylight when they had started tailing him.

"Slinking around like some child trying to get a cookie," he grumbled, though reined in his irritation enough that he didn't try to take Entrophine's finger off. This time. She laughed again, wagging the finger that had been in Pitch's face moments prior, before suddenly she was gone … It took the Bogey Man a moment to find her – she did that, at random, disappearing. He re-located her up a nearby tree, looking at a different angle so that she could continue watching Jack. Presumably.

"I understood getting Jack believers," he continued, though he was sure that it was the same as talking to a brick wall, "because it gives him the same weakness as the other guardians. But … Now what? And, how did you know it was going to happen here?"

"Just because I'm unpredictable," Entrophine started before looking at Pitch, bending back over the branch and giggling, "doesn't mean that I. Can't. Plaaan." Before she proceeded to tap his nose, which made him growl in anger. She was pushing her luck with him; he'd known her for a short time, and it was looking like it would be a shorter and shorter alliance if she didn't start treating him like an equal instead of like a child she needed to lead around by the hand.

"Well, mind letting me in on this _plan_?" he asked irritably as he rubbed at the end of his nose where she'd touched him. She stayed where she was, laying over the tree branch and looking at him for a long pause, but eventually she almost seemed to stretch out and flicker for a moment, as if gravity were stretching her out more suddenly.

"I suppose," she said with a dramatic sigh, almost oozing off of the branch and appearing standing next to him, "since you've been _so_ patient … I could let you in a little secret." She then leaned close to his ear and whispered something that at first placated Pitch, but by the end only served to confound him.

"I promise that you'll have the cold to go with your dark in exactly four days … … And if everything keeps moving along _so_ nicely … You may even get Jack Frost."

Footnotes:

1 – Disclaimer: I didn't come up with this name xD I was scrolling through a Yahoo Answers thread that was answering the question of what was a good name for an orphanage, and this was one of the suggestions.


End file.
